


O, Captain

by lostalongtthewayy



Series: whatever it takes [11]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan Fluff, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Family moments, Gen, Multi, Swan Believer, Swan-Jones Family, angsty-fluff, cs domestic fluff, pirates pretend play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostalongtthewayy/pseuds/lostalongtthewayy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SwanBeliever/future CS family angsty-(ish) fluffy one shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O, Captain

**Author's Note:**

> This started as me wanting Emma and Henry to have an honest conversation about her past once he got a little older, so I did that here, but, Killian and their adorable future kid kept wanting in so I stopped fighting them and here we are! Hope you like this! Thank you for reading! :)

It started with a stiff hug.

It was Thursday morning, and like always, they were all getting ready for their days. Emma had to go the station, just as Killian, Henry had school, while the little one had half a day of preschool that morning.

Everything had seemed normal, until —well, until it just hadn’t.

 

At first, the only unusual thing that morning was that Emma had been rushing a bit more than normal. It had been something about Killian saying something _so funny_ during breakfast while Emma fed Estella her cereal, which had ended in Estella sputtering a mouth full of milk and cheerios all over Emma’s face and hair.

This had turned into a very late morning, a second shower, a _very very_ sorry toddler, same as a very apologetic Daddy.

That had been _it_ as far as unusualness that morning though.

At least Emma thought so, but then, just as everybody was getting out the door, she’d tried giving _Henry_ her usual goodbye hug before the kid headed to school himself.

Henry had stiffened at her touch though. He’d awkwardly hugged her back, not even trying to return the warm smile his mom had been offering.

It’d thrown Emma off to say the least, but at least that day, she didn’t think much of it. Maybe Henry just wasn’t having a great morning himself.

The problem was, when little things like that kept happening the next days. He started to withdrawn himself into a shell somehow —mostly staying in his room unless it was dinnertime or he was needed downstairs for some reason.

And that was _it_ , he wasn’t spending time with them — _with her_ — unless there was a reason for him to be.

 _That_ , wasn’t usual for Henry.

Her son, while very much a teenager now, still enjoyed being with his family, share about his day, ask about theirs, simply play with Estella before bed, or watch a show or a movie in the evening with her and Killian.

Now he was moody most of the time, so _distant,_ and honestly, Emma was starting to worry.

Especially because she felt as though _she_ was at fault of whatever was wrong with Henry. Maybe she was wrong, but deep inside she had the feeling she truly wasn’t.

Henry wasn’t home yet, so if Emma wanted to _try_ and talk things out with him, it was going to have to wait until later.

Especially because she could already hear her kid — _the youngest one, the one that still loved her and acknowledged her existence_ — running wildly into the house.

Before Emma could stop herself she grimaced and puffed out a breath though. Estella was fast, hands down sneakier than she and Killian combined. Emma didn’t need superpowers to know Estella had outran Killian into the house, certainly before he had a chance to help her out of her wet shoes and most likely wet clothes too.

Today it was Killian’s turn to keep Estella while Emma did the ‘sheriff-ing’ as they called it.

Not surprisingly, he’d taken the little girl to his ship.

 _Not surprisingly_ , that was Estella’s number one favorite place to hang out —closely followed by both Granny’s, and ‘ _Granma’s_ ’.

She loved the Jolly Roger _almost_ as much as Killian did. The ‘Jolly-Joger’ she still called it, but Killian didn’t mind, and Emma found it rather adorable.

Still, right now, after a whole day out on the ship and in the water —Killian could do a lot of things, but keeping Estella out of the water seemed something he simply was _not_ capable of— Emma knew the kid was bound to return filthy.

“MUM!” Estella shouted with so much glee as soon as her bright blue eyes landed on Emma. “Hi Mummy! I’m home!”

Emma sucked in a deep breath taking her in —the mud, all of the mud she was dragging in the house— but still could not stop herself from smiling.

That was her little girl all right; gold fluffy tutu, black leggings, striped rainbow rain boots, mud in her hair, hands, and face. Of course, nothing could top that toothed grin of hers though. “Hello little duck…” Emma cooed as Estella then, so very unceremoniously, pretty much threw herself in her mom’s arms. “Didn’t Daddy tell you to wait for him?”

“YES!” Estella answered, scratching at her itchy muddy nose. “But he’s slow,”

A chuckle escaped Emma before she could help it, and course Killian chose that moment to walk into the house as well.

“I heard that!” He grumbled from the mudroom where he wasn’t failing at taking off his filthy shoes like Estella had. “Estella, Daddy asked you quite nicely to wait for him,”

Scrunching her face, Estella looked down at herself, then at the now very dirty hardwood floors beneath her, and then over at Killian with a pout. “But Mummy’s home,” how was she supposed to contain her excitement enough to wait for him?

And anyway, Killian was hopeless when Estella used that sweet little tone of hers. He just couldn’t take it. Emma then watched the exact moment Killian decided to forfeit, giving Estella this win. “It’s okay, love,” he walked over to the kitchen then, looking over at the child and nodding slightly. “I suppose you couldn’t wait to hug mum hello, is that right little lass?”

“Yup!”

And of course that was enough to make them both smile. Quite happily, Emma then reached down, scooping up that clever little girl of theirs into her arms. She hugged Estella tightly to her chest, and kissed her cheeks one too many times until the little girl was giggling and squirming in her arms. “Mommy missed you too,” she said, then kissed Estella a couple more times, smiling at the happy little sigh that escaped her little girl.

A whole day without seeing each other was tough not just on Emma, but on Estella too for sure.

“I believe she’s in dire need of a bath, love,”

“Daddy!”

“Estella,” Killian replied, mimicking Estella’s tone.

Estella scowled, clearly not amused. “I washed myself in da water already!”

“But you didn’t do a good job little love,”

A playful pout immediately made it to Estella’s face. She sucked in a breath and then turned to Emma as if looking helplessly for backup.

“Oh, don’t look at me, Estella,” Emma shook her head playfully at her kid. “Daddy says bath, you take a bath, Duckling,”

“But mummy,” Estella cooed, sticking out that lower lip of hers even more so than before.

Emma chuckled because that was her newest tactic to play them. But even when it definitely worked _sometimes_ , today was _not_ one of those times. “You smell like a stinky fishy, Estella,” and she truly truly did. “You gotta bathe,”

Estella was her kid, and Emma loved her unconditionally, even when she absolutely stunk like right now, but that still didn’t mean she wouldn’t love her even _more,_ if she were clean and smelling like baby lotion or something that wasn’t the smell of rotten fish.

“Daddy probably stinks too,”

“Hey, excuse _me_? I’m right here, thank you very much.”

Emma chuckled at his indignation but it was all in good fun and he knew it. “Hey, I’m just saying what I smell, and that is, not one, but _two_ stinky pirates!” Her words were enough to have Estella burst into a fit of chuckles.

Even to this day that sweet little sound of her laughter was still everything to Emma. It made her heart swell with so much love it truly was unbelievable to love someone _that_ much.

“We’re stinky Daddy!”

Killian let out a rather dramatic sigh at that before nodding. “It appears so, little love,” he managed a pout of his own then as he extended his arms toward Estella. “What do you say we clean up before supper?”

“Okay…” Estella sighed, kissing Emma’s cheek sloppily before reaching for Killian. She turned to look back at Emma once she was securely tucked in her father’s arms. “Floor’s all dirty now mummy,”

“Imagine _that_ ,” Emma told Estella, shaking her head. “Makes you wonder _who_ keeps forgetting we have a mudroom in this house for our yucky shoes and clothes, huh?”

Estella made a face that matched Emma’s as she rested her head back on Killian’s shoulder and shook her head slowly. “What a _mess_!”

“Yeah, yeah, what a mess, you stinky pirate,”

Estella chuckled again, nuzzling her nose against Killian’s shirt when it itched.

“We’ll be back shorty love,” Killian said then, leaning in and kissing Emma’s lips softly. She smiled against his lips, and cupped his face kissing him just one more time before he pulled back. “Love you,”

“Yeah…” Emma sighed, smiling at that pair that owned her heart. “You too,” she promised, locking eyes with Killian for all of ten seconds before Estella sneezed and broke the moment.

He headed up the stairs with their kid in his arms then, and Emma stayed behind, already trying to figure out how to clean up all those muddy patches on her floors without making the mess worse.

However, before she could as much as open the cupboard looking for cleaning supplies, she heard the front door opening and shutting.

It was Henry.

It had to be Henry.

“Hey,”

Yeah, it was Henry all right. “Hey,” Emma replied, trying for a small smile as their eyes met for a second. “How was your day?”

“All good,” he replied. “I’m gonna be upstairs,”

And with just that Henry was already walking away.

Emma watched him for a beat; watched him as he barely spared her a look before he started moving toward the stairs.

“Okay, wait a minute,”

Henry didn’t turn at her voice, but did stop walking at least.

“Are you upset with me?”

“No,”

Oh yeah, those short answers weren’t going to cut it for Emma today. She decided to forget about her messy floors for that moment, and instead walked toward Henry. She was the mom of an almost eighteen-year-old boy, who was weeks from graduating High School, and an almost four-year-old who had just started pre-k last fall. It was an understatement to say Emma needed complete different sets of parenting tools in order to actually _parent_ both her children. And to be honest, up until the last few days, she’d thought she was doing it all right.

Now however—

“Henry, listen, I can’t force you to talk to me and tell me what’s wrong, but if I did something, I’d really like you to tell me,” there was no way she could fix whatever she did if he just kept shutting her out like this.

Emma knew she couldn’t _make_ him confide in her, but her heart truly ached to just figure out a way to get through him. This was hurting her, a lot, and Emma knew it must also be hurting Henry. He wasn’t like this, and if he was acting like this, she knew he must have a real reason for it.

Her only hope was that they could fix whatever it was sooner rather than later.

“Are you okay?”

“Mm, hmm,”

“You don’t look okay, kid,”

Heaving a deep sigh, Henry finally decided to turn to look over at Emma then. “I just can’t talk to you about this,”

“Why?”

“I can’t,”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No,”

Emma’s eyes narrowed at that, she’d figured that had to be it, some sort of mess he’d gotten into and didn’t want to tell them. “Is this about me?”

And of course his face fell the second she asked that question point blank.

This _was_ about her, that much was clear at least. “How come you can’t talk to me about it?”

A few moments went by with him refusing to not just answer, but also look at her. These days Henry was inches taller than Emma, gone were the days he was that precious little boy looking up at her like she were the sun —the savior, the answer to all his problems.

These days _he_ was a hero of his very own, and Emma couldn’t be prouder of him.

Still—

“Henry, you can tell me anything, you know? I,” shaking her head and sighing, Emma let her words trail off for a moment. Henry’s eyes lifted slightly then, and their eyes locked shyly. “I just want to help you kid, I miss you, you know,”

A look crossed Henry’s eyes then, before he shifted them, and Emma knew in that moment he _did want_ to trust her —he just didn’t know if he could though. “Whatever it is, you are not sure if you should tell me, right?”

Henry let out a long breath, before nodding his head ever so slightly.

“Is it going to hurt me, is that it?”

And yeah, that was it, all right. “Mom, I just—”

“You’re worried about me, I’m getting that, but _I’m_ your mom, _I_ gotta take care of _you_ , and whatever this is, it has got you all miserable kid. Let’s change that. Just, trust me, okay? I can handle it,”

“I know,”

“Okay, then how about you just tell me?”

Henry looked at Emma uneasily. He knew she was right, but at the same time he couldn’t help feeling like it was his job to keep his mom from rehashing a past that would hurt her all over again.

Then again, Henry was also aware things between them couldn’t continue the way they had, so maybe, maybe he did have to tell her.

“Where’s Killian and Estella?”

“Upstairs,” Emma replied, pointing with her finger to the second floor. “He’s giving her a bath,”

Henry considered his possibilities for a few seconds before finally deciding what he would do. “Go out to the sunroom, I’m gonna grab something from my room, it’s better I just show you, mom,”

Emma was still confused —no doubt about that, but at least now she thought they were maybe getting somewhere. “All right,”

And with that, Henry went rushing up the stairs and Emma headed in the direction of the sunroom.

Emma waited for a few minutes sitting on the wooden swing they had there, before Henry joined her. He was holding one of his books with him —one of _those_ books.

All right then, “What’s this about?”

“You,” Henry replied simply as he sat down next to his mom. He hesitated for a moment before just placing the book on her lap.

Emma didn’t open it right away. Instead, she looked over at him expectantly.  

He needed to explain and he knew it. “A couple of weeks ago, I don’t know why, but I started writing _that,_ ” he said pointing to the book on her lap. “It’s all about you, everything that’s happened since you were born and they put you in that wardrobe,”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know, mom,” Henry’s voice was hesitant, and he couldn’t look at her at all. “One day the pages just started coming to me, and I couldn’t —I couldn’t help it, I had to write it.”

Emma was blinking slowly, her throat suddenly feeling tight, and she didn’t like it. Her blood ran cold at the thought alone of Henry knowing everything she went through growing up.

“Did you read it?”

Henry leaned back on the swing, closing his eyes and forcing himself to keep his breathing steady. “Some, not all of it,”

“When did you stop?”

And the fact that _she knew_ he _had_ to stop reading at some specific point was throwing him off. Still—

This wasn’t about him. “I stopped reading after my Dad showed up,” he said, and Emma didn’t miss the way he struggled to get the word _Dad_ out.

Touching the book’s cover, Emma let silence linger for a while. There was so much — _so much_ — about her past she just never wished her kids would learn. There was no point.

At least that was what she thought. It was _in the past_ after all.

“When you met him, you were a kid; you were _sixteen years old_ mom _!_ ”

Yes, _this_ was _definitely_ a conversation Emma wished she never had to have with her kid. “Henry—”

“And that family that gave you up, you weren’t much older than Estella is now, you were still a freaking baby, and they just abandoned you, I—”

“Henry,” Emma called, turning, and placing both her hands on his shoulders. She swallowed hard at his broken disposition and watery eyes. “None of that matters to me anymore,”

“But—”

“It doesn’t,” Emma insisted before Henry could put another word in. “Your father, he gave me _you_ , _that_ matters to me. That first family that gave me up, the next one, and each and every foster home, they shaped me —for better or worse, they made me who I am, and I have to believe not everything was bad.”

Henry still looked stubbornly unconvinced. Emma sighed, and then, against her better judgement, let go of his shoulders and went on to grab the book on her lap. She flipped it open, and then quickly flipped through the first handful of pages. She didn’t let herself stop to take in _any_ detail whatsoever of those pages retelling her childhood. However, after a little while she made it to the page she was truly hoping she would find—

_Her 28_ _ th _ _birthday._

“Here, look,” she said then, making Henry look down at the page of the book she was pointing. And right there, Henry was faced with a whole page illustration of a happier, younger — _much younger—_ version of himself.

Emma wasn’t the only one who couldn’t help a soft smile from forming on her face. “See, not everything is bad,”

Henry looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, and Emma nodded. “That was almost nine years ago, if it hadn’t been for you, I would have never made it home, kid…”

A small chuckle escaped Henry but he also nodded slowly at that.

Emma continued to flip through the pages then, Henry was actively taking in the pages as well now —he’d stop truly paying any attention after he learned just how and why Emma had ended in prison over eighteen years ago, but…

She was right, there was much more in that book that just the terrible stories from her childhood.

“There’s Killian,”

Emma stopped then for a moment, her fingers touching the illustration of a much younger her and Killian getting ready to start climbing a fucking beanstalk.

She smiled, but continued flipping the pages… “And there’s you again, mom, dad…everything in my life hasn’t been bad, you see…”

“I know,” he knew that before he’d ended up with this book in his hands, but, “How come you never told us anything?” And he meant to say _him,_ how come she never told _him_ anything.

“What’s the point?”

“You went through a lot mom,” he’d learned about abusive foster parents, bullies at so many different schools, so many birthdays she never got to celebrate, holidays alone, truly _alone—_

“Henry, you gotta stop, kid,” she could see the tears beginning to pool in his eyes once more, and she knew all this was just making him angry. Angry that there was nothing he could do to fix any of this anymore. Angry she’d had to go through so fucking much just to find her family. “I didn’t have a very happy upbringing, but guess what?”

“What?”

“I get to make sure _you_ do now. I get to make sure Estella does as well. And that —that makes me happy. And you know, I see it as a bit of a do-over for me as well,”

“Why? How, I don’t get it,”

Emma shrugged, setting the book aside for a moment, as she wrapped her arms around her son. “Because for every Christmas I was alone, Estella gets to celebrate and open presents not just once here at home, but at my parents’ place, and then at Granny’s, and she herself gets to bring presents to the children at the hospital and the convent.”

Henry was still not convinced, Emma could tell, but she still made herself smile sincerely as she kept talking.

“For all those nights I was alone, I now get to go to bed every night next to a dorky ex-pirate that adores me more than air. For every sucky foster family, I get to have family dinners at Granny’s at least three times a week with everybody I love. For every time I was sad and lonely, I get to hug you, or Estella, or Killian, or my mom, or Dad…do you get what I’m saying now?”

Henry nodded, but Emma could see right through his hesitation.

“It doesn’t erase my past, nothing will, but that’s okay, Henry,”

“It wasn’t fair,”

“No, it wasn’t.” Emma agreed simply. “But there’s still no point in getting angry about it now, kid…”

Deeply, Henry sighed then, and nodded. “I guess,”

Emma wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to her once more. Henry was so long these days, so so long and just, _grown up_ , but if Emma closed her eyes and tried hard enough, she could almost see right in front of her that smiley little boy who changed her life all those years ago.

“Mom?”

“Uh?”

Henry sighed before pulling back from her and meeting her eyes. “I’m still sorry my dad was such an asshole,”

“Henry,”

“I actually mean that,”

Emma knew he did all right, but she didn’t want this, she didn’t want Henry thinking like this. “You know, he just did what he had to do. We all can only do so much, Henry. It is what it is, and I truly don’t hold any grudges toward him —not anymore anyway,”

“I’m not there yet,”

“I know,” Emma said, soothingly rubbing his back. “You will though, I know that,” Henry had, after all, the most forgiving and sweetest heart of all. He’ll get there; Emma had no doubt he would.

“Mm, hmm,” Henry muttered before shifting his eyes back to the book. Now that he had seen more of the more recent stories, he wanted to see where the book ended, although—

Maybe it didn’t have an ending; maybe this was an ongoing project he had to keep working on from now on.

“Let me see something…” Henry said then, reaching across Emma and grabbing the book.

Emma looked at him confused for a moment, but then smiled as he flipped the pages quickly trying to find the last page.

“Oh,”

Emma chuckled, peering down at the illustration before them —it was the back of a wooden swing, _the very one they were sitting right now_ , and the shadows of two people, _a woman and a wonderful young man_ , hugging each other on said swing.

“Hey, what would you know, it seems my story just keeps getting better and better, huh?”

And at last Henry relaxed —truly did— and laughed.

And there it was, yet another one of those _moments_ Emma was telling Henry before. The moments that somewhat made up for the sad ones of her past. This one was one of her favorites hands down. For every time she cried as a child, seeing her children laugh and be happy warmed each and every one of those hidden corners in her heart that still held on to that sadness from before.

And then, as in by magic, the next page on the book flipped itself onto a blank one. The page didn’t stay blank for long though, right then, with both Henry’s and Emma’s eyes completely focused on the page, yet another illustration as well as text began to appear on the page.

At first they were not sure what it was, but then they _heard her,_ and just knew who the picture was going to be of—

 _“_ Estella,” they said the baby’s name at the same time, and then laughed when a freshly bathed little girl ran out into the sunroom with the biggest grin imaginable spread across her face.

“Captain Hook’s chasing me mummy! He’s gonna get me!” And just like that, Estella’s squeals filled the room before Killian appeared on the door to the sunroom as well.

He had his fake hook in hand, eyepatch in place, even the wig, and the ridiculous red hat was on his head as well.

 _He_ looked absolutely _ridiculous_.

“Arrrrrghhh!” He growled, marching into the room.

Estella squealed piercingly yet with such joyfulness neither seemed to care. She rushed to the swing and then proceeded to smirk at her ~~father~~ —er, _Captain Hook_ when both Emma and Henry helped her up on the swing, and snuggled her protectively between them.

The sight alone made Killian laugh —heartedly. “Good heavens! Run! Run for your lives! It's…A little girl.”

“HEY!” Estella squealed, clearly offended. With Emma’s and Henry’s help then, she stood on the swing, and puffed out her little chest. “It’s _not_ little girl, it’s _Captain Jones_ to you, you filthy old bean!”

“Estella!”

“Whoops,” Estella let out, looking down over at Emma. “Was that mean?”

“A tad, sweetie,”

“Oh,” reconsidering her words, Estella shifted her eyes back to Killian then. “You pinhead?” She said, this time a lot more cautiously.

Killian in any case, fixed her with a thoughtful look. He stepped inward, giving all of four steps until he was just a few inches away from Estella —Killian eyed her from head to toe then, making Estella peer down at herself just like he did.

Everybody was quiet, Emma keeping a steady hold on Estella just in case _Captain Hook_ decided to attack—

And sure enough, all of ten seconds later, “ARRRRRGGGHHHH!” He growled, making Estella jump and squeal so, _so_ loudly they all cringed.

The little girl however, couldn’t care less; instead, she wiggled her way off the swing and took off running away. “You can’t catch me you old poopy butt!”

“Oh my God, Estella,” Emma said, but it was too late; Estella was already out of sight and Killian was well on his way to catch her.

Emma shook her head, smiling in spite herself when Killian winked — _tried_ to wink at her— before disappearing back into the house as well.

“She _is_ a pirate,”

Henry’s words made Emma smile. “Tell me about it,” she sighed, tilting her head, and smiling softly at her son. “Are we good now kid?”

“Yes,”

“Good,” Emma nodded simply; then twisted her lips thoughtfully. “Wanna play pirates?”

Henry laughed, but Emma didn’t miss the glint of joy that flashed in his eyes. “Killian could use the help,”

“Oh yeah, he _needs it_ ,” Emma agreed easily, closing the book and setting it on the swing as they both got up.

There was a moment then, both of them just looking at the book, and then at each other. So what if life _is_ a fairytale? “Second star to the right and straight on till morning?”

“Mom…”

“Hey, _you_ are the one who made me believe in all this crap, do _not_ go complaining now,”

Henry rolled his eyes, _dramatically_ , and then sighed. “Second star to the right and straight on till morning — _happy_?”

“ _Very_ ,” and with that Emma grabbed onto his hand, and nearly dragged him back into the house.

They ran into Estella almost immediately though. She was holding a wooden sword now and was pointing it at them. “Friends or foes?”

Emma and Henry shared a look at that and tried their very hardest not to laugh.

“I asked you a question!” Estella shouted goofily, poking them both with her sword.

“Ow, bad form, Estella,”

“Henry!” Estella whispered loudly. “It’s Captain Jones!”

“Right, sorry,”

Estella nodded at that before taking pose again. “Friends or foes you two?”

Emma’s lips twitched upwards before she could stop it. She looked at her baby daughter, dressed in white pajamas with little black anchors all over. She bit her lip for just a moment before just giving in.

As seriously as she could, Emma Swan, former lost girl and non-believer enthusiast, properly saluted her very own Captain Jones Jr. “O, Captain, my Captain!”

Estella giggled and ran to her mom hugging her legs. She looked over at Henry who was too saluting her now. “Okay, let’s go get us some pirates now!!”

“All right…lead the way, Captain Jones!”

_—fin—_

 


End file.
